


Pie Me, Baby

by Euphoriette



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 07:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14397108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euphoriette/pseuds/Euphoriette





	Pie Me, Baby

Harry Potter is bored out of his fucking _mind_.

As he plays with his food, he idly notices Hermoine and Ron bickering good-naturedly at his side and that Seamus has already managed to _blow his chicken up_ , and is sitting stock-still with an expression of shock on his face.  
Spirits are high at the Gryffindor table. They had just gotten second place in the school Quidditch tournament. Of course it stung a little that they were beaten by Slytherin, but one had to admit there was quite a lot of excellent playing from both sides and the match was breathtakingly close. Gryffindor was initially beating Slytherin, but then, just as Harry was about to grab the the Snitch, Draco Malfoy had pulled a fucking _nosedive_ , whooshing past inches from Harry’s face and snagging the Snitch for the win.

Draco Malfoy. Harry’s eyes landed on the back of a perfectly styled head of blond hair from across the dining hall. With a smug smile on his face as his fellow Slytherin patted him on the back and complimented his skills as a Seeker, Draco was probably telling them that it was a piece of cake, no sweat off his back beating that unruly little prick Potter. Pansy Parkinson was absolutely smothering him, draping herself over his shoulder and giving him that flirty little smile she always gives him.

Harry’s eye twitches as her hand snakes up Draco's arm, and just stops himself before he Stuns her into next week. Why is he feeling so...weird?

Is he… _jealous_?

“Hey, mate. What’s up with you? You’ve been staring at the back of Malfoy’s head for five minutes.”, Ron asks, snapping Harry out of his daze.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”, Harry says, lying through his teeth. “It’s nothing.”  
\---  
As Harry plays with his food and hates Pansy Parkinson, he gets an idea as he rolls cherries around his plate.

Picking up a cherry and carefully aiming, Harry throws it with all his might across the dining hall and watches as it hits Malfoy on the back of his head.

Malfoy doesn’t even turn around, just swats behind his head like swatting for a fly. Finding nothing, he resumes talking to Pansy.

Harry picks up a bigger cherry and throws it _even harder_ at the prissy blond. This time, Draco actually flinches a bit in his seat and turns around. Harry keeps his eyes trained carefully down, feeling Draco’s steel-sharp gaze on him, and counts to ten.

When Harry looks up, Draco’s back is turned again, but he isn’t talking to Pansy anymore. He’s sitting stock-still in his seat like a prince, spine sharp and straight and _challenging_.

Harry grins like wolf, picks up a small piece of pie, and aims.  
\---  
It’s been about five minutes when Draco Malfoy has finally had _enough_.

Harry had been throwing bigger and bigger pieces of pie, smirking every time they made contact with the back of Draco’s head. Finally, Harry picks up the biggest piece of cherry pie possible, squishing in his fist and throws it just as Malfoy turns around to yell at him.

The piece hits Malfoy square in the face, knocking him back into his seat. The whole hall is deathly silent, even the professors don't say a word. The tension in the air is almost palpable.

Draco slowly sits up and grabs a napkin, meticulously cleaning off his face. When the last piece of pie is wiped away from his pale cheeks, Draco looks up at Harry and stands up, glaring daggers at the brunette.

“Are we really going to do this, Potter?”

“Only if you’re up for it Malfoy.”

The look in Draco’s eyes almost leaves Harry breathless with it’s intensity. 

Suddenly, Draco reaches behind himself, picks up a whole _turkey_ , and smirks at the astonished expression on Harry’s face.

“You’re going down, Gryffin-snore.”  
\---  
“Albus.”, Minerva McGonagall says weakly. “Albus, shouldn’t we stop them?”

Albus Dumbledore looks on at the ongoing fray, an amused expression on his face and answers without even turning around. All the houses are duking it out now, a small spat has turned into a full-out war. Albus looks like he is enjoying himself hugely.

“Minerva, look at Potter and Malfoy. Tell me what you see.”

So, Minerva McGonagall strains her eyes and sees Harry and Draco, yelling and throwing all a manner of food at each other. Draco even barks out a laugh when porridge sails over his head and Harry is grinning like a madman. They circle around each other, almost like a dance, weaving in and out and _hungry_ for each other.

“Do you understand now?”, Albus asks, a smile evident in his voice.

“Oh _dear._ ”, Minerva says, understanding and exasperated. “I hate it when you’re right.”


End file.
